


The Writing's On The Wall

by MaraMcGregor



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Break Up, Closeted Character, Emotional Manipulation, Homophobia, Homophobic Allusions, M/M, Mentions of conversion therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-09 16:14:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11672619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaraMcGregor/pseuds/MaraMcGregor
Summary: Bitty was the first openly gay NCAA men's hockey captain. He's out and starting life with Jack after dating for over two years. But, as far as the public knows, Jack is just letting his old liney room with him. Jack's agent is determined to keep their relationship in the closet. She suggests that Jack "date" someone of her choosing for the press. Her manipulations of Jack's anxiety go deep and cause a severe rift in Bitty and Jack's relationship. Bitty realizes what he has sacrificed and how much of his life isn't his own.I have tried desperately to demonstrate how complex their situation is and all the mitigating circumstances. This starts with an external force cruelly using her knowledge of Jack's anxiety and manipulating him. But, the fallout is everything else. Relationships are complicated. It's never just one thing.





	The Writing's On The Wall

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [OMGCP_Heartbreak_Fest_2017](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/OMGCP_Heartbreak_Fest_2017) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
> Characters/Pairings: Zimbits
> 
> Prompt Details: Future!Fic. Years into his contract with the Falconers, Jack isn't even close to coming out and Bitty has put his life on hold waiting for his BF. When Jack's agent proposes a no-shit beard to curb the gay rumors, and Jack actually considers it, Bitty has to decide if this is the life he really wants.
> 
> Additional Info: Could be a break-up fic, doesn't have to be, mostly just looking for Jack not comprehending how bad things have gotten.
> 
> Squicks: N/A
> 
> Maximum Rating: NC-17
> 
> * * *
> 
> Be aware that an outside character manipulates Jack's anxiety to get the results she wants. The emotional manipulation is not from Bitty or Jack. They are the victims of it. I also chose to make this less in the future because of how much I took away from Bitty. I just ... I couldn't leave him without a real out.

Bitty hummed to himself. His hands were laden with groceries as he walked back to his and Jack’s apartment building. They had only been living together for a month, but there was nothing quite like saying _their_ apartment. He pulled out his key and started to unlock the door, when he realized that it was already open. Confused, he pushed the door open and called, “Jack? You home already?”

“In the kitchen, Bits.”

Bitty’s brow furrowed. Jack’s voice sounded _off_. “Everything okay, sweetheart? I thought you said you were busy until later this afternoon.”

Jack was silent as Bitty rounded the corner and placed his bags on the counter.

Bitty nodded at Jack’s agent and an unknown woman sitting with her. “I wasn’t expecting company or I would have at least had snacks set out.”

Bitty was met with an uncomfortable silence.

“Okay, what is going on? I know you keep a tight schedule and you told me you’d be done for the day by 4. It’s 1:30.”

“Bits, why don’t you sit down.”  
  
Bitty felt a tingle crawl up his spine. “Jack -”

Before Bitty could protest, the agent, Ms. Caulfield, spoke, “There have been several headlines recently that have suggested that Jack appearing at events by himself might suggest that he’s not interested in women.”

Bitty rolled his eyes and huffed. “That’s ridiculous. Jack’s bi. Of course he’s interested in women. He even dated Camilla Collins at Samwell.”

Caulfield straightened her suit jacket and stared Bitty directly in his eyes. “Samwell is part of the problem.” She slid over an article titled _One in Four Maybe the Falconers Captain?_

Bitty snorted. “Really? This is from the same people who keep insisting KStew is straight. They are incompetent and couldn’t care less about what people say for themselves.”

“This isn’t the only one.”

Bitty watched Jack’s body language. His head was ducked, shoulders hunched.

“I thought we agreed that we would let them write whatever they wanted and ignore the gossip rags.”

Jack’s silence spoke volumes.

“We feel that if he showed up at events with a woman on his arm, we could manage this better.”

“ _Manage_ ,” Bitty laced the word with as much Southern disdain as he could inflect. “Last I knew, two adult men in a consensual relationship don’t need _managing_ . And certainly not by some agent whose only use is in negotiating for more money. If the Falcs felt like we needed _managing_ , George would be at this table with the head of PR.”

The woman sitting next to Jack seemed to shrink in on herself. Bitty wanted to feel bad for her, but he couldn’t bring himself to. “This is who you picked? This is the one who is going to save Jack from the Big Gay Scandal?”

“Our firm has hired women from her agency before. They are discreet. She’s already signed all the necessary NDAs.”

Bitty flexed his hands at his sides. “Already signed?” He glared at Jack, silently demanding that he have the decency to look him in the face. “So. Your agent, not your team, your _agent_ decided she wanted to _straighten_ out your public image so that you are more profitable for her. And you went behind my back, had these discussions, _signed NDAs_ , and I’m what? Supposed to be happy that you didn’t even have the courtesy to tell me you were thinking about this?”

Jack ran a hand through his hair. “You know it’s not like that. Eventually people won’t just think they are rumors. It’ll harm my career.”

“ _Your career_?! You are already out to the Falcs! I babysit Marty and Thirdy’s kids!”

“Eventually, I’ll get traded. I can’t expect to stay with them forever.”

That statement brought Bitty up short. “Exactly how long are you planning on keeping me a secret, Jack?”

“Bittle - you just don’t understand.”

“ _I_ don’t understand? I came out to my parents for you. My Southern Baptist parents. I told them I wasn’t coming home after graduation because I was moving in with my boyfriend. You were there for the conversation! You heard them! I got kicked out of my house, disowned, and told that I could only come back if I decided to go to _conversion therapy_ . I don’t understand? I’m the first out gay captain of a NCAA men’s hockey team. I’ve had ESPN and Out Magazine bashing and praising me in equal measure. I have had every religious conservative in New England show up at my games. Nevermind what happens on roadies! Don’t you _dare_ tell me for one second that _I don’t understand_ , Mr. Zimmermann.”

“I know!” Jack ran his hands through his hair. “I know. I saw everything you went through, and I just - can’t. I can’t do that. That was just the NCAA, it’ll be worse with the NHL. These articles are getting more and more specific. It feels like I’m in a shark cage and Great Whites are circling and banging the frame.”

Bitty closed his eyes and sighed. “I’m not here to play oppression Olympics. But, I will remind you that your family will always have your back. No matter what happens in the press, you will always have your parents.” Even discussing the idea of a fake girlfriend grated on Bitty. But he could see the toll the headlines were taking on Jack. “How far is this going to go?”

Caulfield grinned and patted the still unnamed woman’s arm. “We were thinking family skate this weekend would be a good opportunity. It’s a controlled environment and will be easy to craft the perfect message.”

He didn’t want to give an inch. He had worked hard to get where he was and this felt like taking several steps back. But, he knew he had to take into account Jack’s anxiety and that Jack wasn’t in the same place that he was. Yes, he wanted to live his life openly and honestly. But, the only thing he wanted more than that, was for Jack to be happy and secure. “This will make you feel better, Jack?” He hated how his voice trembled slightly at the end.

Jack searched his face. “I hope it will make me feel less anxious, less like I’m constantly looking over my shoulder.”

Bitty sighed, resigned. “Okay.”

* * *

Jack knew that it was a big ask. He and Bitty had discussed their situation for months leading up to Bitty graduating and moving in. But, Ms. Caulfield was right. No one stayed with one team for their entire career. And while the Falcs were good guys and completely behind him, it was impossible to know the future. What happened if he got traded to a team like the Blackhawks?

He felt a shudder run through his body at the thought of being somewhere with such a bad reputation. But, it wasn’t out of the question.

Jack kept thinking about the headlines Caulfield had shown him. He knew he shouldn’t let them get under his skin, but the tone of the articles was hinting at more than mere speculation. He loved Bitty and wanted him in his life, his apartment, and his bed. It was past midnight and Bitty was still banging things in the kitchen.

He gave up on trying to sleep and wandered down the hall to stand at the edge of the kitchen. “Bits.”

Bitty scowled at the ball of dough he was kneading. “Yes, Jack.”

“I’m sorry. I should have run it by you before setting up an appointment. And I should have told you about Caulfield’s concerns first.”

Bitty sighed. “Yes. You should have.” He continued in a quieter, kinder voice, “I get it Jack. I really do. I just wish you would have come to me with your concerns and not your agent.”

“I didn’t realize how bad the articles were getting. I really have been ignoring them like we promised.”

“We’re a team, Jack. If Caulfield has a problem, we handle it together.”

“Yeah.” Jack shuffled his feet and watched as Bitty’s intensity with the dough lessened. “Are you okay with Vanessa coming to family skate?”

“Not really.” Bitty stopped and faced Jack. “But, we’ll see where it goes. If it gets the gossip rags off your back and through the off season, what harm is one family skate? And when the season starts back up again, they’ll be too busy talking about the amazing hockey player, Jack Zimmermann’s stats, that romance will be pushed to the back-burner.”

Jack nodded and wrapped his arms around Bitty, pulling him in close. “One family skate. One photo op session. Then it’s done.”

Bitty sighed and rested his head on Jack’s broad chest. “Alright, let me put this dough in some plastic wrap and set it in the fridge. I’ll be along to bed, shortly.”

* * *

Three days later, Bitty was miserable. He had shown up at family skate with Jack and had enjoyed all of 15 minutes on the ice before Caulfield and Vanessa showed up. He was quickly hustled off the ice and into the lodge. Out of sight, out of mind. He lingered briefly at the door to watch Vanessa put on brand new skates that Caulfield had brought with her. He could feel himself being petty when she wobbled when she stood, getting a small sense of satisfaction as Caulfield had to catch her. It quickly turned sour when Jack, ever the gentleman, helped her onto the ice and began basic skating instruction. Bitty tried not to let it get to him. But there was only so much he could watch without wanting to create a scene. He forced himself to turn away and take up residence in the dining hall.

Time dragged on. Bitty periodically checked the time on his phone. At the end of the first hour, he had finished cleaning and organizing the kitchen. Another 30 minutes after that, he had given up and sat in the lodge while the Falcs camera crew took pictures. It didn’t normally sting. But this time - this time _that woman who couldn’t even skate_ was getting her pictures taken with the team. He tried not to be jealous, but it hurt. He babysat for Marty and Thirdy, he filled the nook with pies, and yet, he didn’t have a single picture from any of the many family skates he had been at. But _she_ would. While he was hidden away like a shameful secret.

The sound of laughter drifted in from outside and it simultaneously made him want to cry and to punch something. He violently tugged his phone from his pocket, successfully managing to dump his wallet on the ground and sent all the tiny pieces of paper in it skittering across the floor.

He sent a silent prayer to whatever deity might take pity on him and rounded everything up and set the pile on the table. He started stuffing things back into their proper sleeves and made a separate stack for receipts that he kept forgetting to toss. His fingers grazed over stiff cardstock. The business card was detailed, thick, and clearly made to give an impression. He remembered getting it, and the others. Several teams wanted to talk about prospect camps. Bitty had thanked each and every scout and team representative that had given them to him. He hadn’t explicitly declined, but professional hockey wasn’t something he had been prepared to think about.

If he took them up on it, and he made the cut, he would be on the road and away from Jack for a good portion of the year. And really, all he wanted was to move in with his boyfriend and start up a bakery in Providence. A nice, simple life.

Another burst of laughter interrupted his musings. Prospect camps were starting in a few days for several of the teams he had cards for, and the following week for the others. He stacked them all neatly and carefully placed them into the back pocket of his wallet. Keeping them felt like hanging on to a life preserver. After the past few days, he couldn’t let that feeling go.

Initially, he had suspected that they were asking so that they could be proud of themselves for inviting “the out gay kid” to camp. And there were probably a couple that did. But two had really stood out. The San Jose Sharks and the LA Kings. They hadn’t talked about his orientation besides stating that they felt they could offer him a positive culture. Instead, they had focused on needing a fast wing that could shoot right. Every team needed a left-handed player, and him being the captain of a team that won the NCAA championship - well, they needed him, nothing else really mattered.

And at this point, he just wanted to feel needed. He swallowed hard as he put his wallet away. He had never spoken to Jack about it. With all of his talk about communication lately, he felt like a little bit of a hypocrite. But playing in the NHL and winning a Stanley Cup or two was Jack’s dream and he didn’t want to step all over that.

He fumbled with his phone and gave both the Sharks and Kings a follow on Twitter. The Sharks would be announcing their prospect camp list this week and the Kings would be announcing the week after. It was enough, for the moment. He dove into his Pinterest and let himself get distracted with various meat pie recipes. There were a couple of interesting takes on Chicken Pot Pie, but it was hard to deviate from tried and true cooking tradition.

Finally, the voices started heading towards the lodge. Bitty could hear Tater’s loud, booming voice extolling the virtues of his blueberry jam. The team wandered into the dining area. Bitty tried to look like everything was fine, but he apparently missed his mark. Marty took one look at him and quietly started turning the team around.

Tater protested, “But, B’s pies!”

“Jesus, Tater. Can’t you see that he needs a moment alone with Jack?” Snowy rolled his eyes and started shoving Tater towards the door.

Bitty waited for the door to close behind the team, leaving Jack and him alone in the dining room. “I don’t know if I can do this, Jack.”

“I thought it went well. There’s pictures to give to the press and it’ll stop the rumors and headlines.”

“Can it end here? I just - Jack, I’ve been to how many family skates? And there’s not a single picture of me. Not even on my own. Not one. I sat in here, by myself, isolated from everything. It felt like you were shoving me into a metaphorical closet.”

Jack’s eyes grew soft. He reached out and placed a hand on Bitty’s arm. “Bitty, I -”

Before he could get further, Ms. Caulfied strode into the lodge, interrupting them. “Well, I think that went swimmingly.”

Bitty ground his teeth. “Excuse me, this is a _private_ conversation. Everyone cleared the room for a _reason_.”

Ms. Caulfield sniffed. “And Jack needs to think with his head and not his other parts. The pictures we got today are going to go a long way, but we need to think about what happens next.”

Bitty nodded. “Yes. We do. You have your pictures, now. This’ll buy Jack time and lighten the pressure. We can call this done and mission accomplished.”

“I don’t think you understand the media expectations. If she just vanishes now, it looks even worse. They see these, then they want to know who the girlfriend is. We need to do a couple of red carpets, see Jack and Vanessa looking gorgeous together. It’ll be great.”

Bitty struggled to keep his voice even. He didn’t need the Falcs overhearing a full-blown domestic argument. Well - semi-domestic. “And _how many_ of these events are you planning?”

“Well, technically, it all depends on the situation.”

Bitty didn’t like the tone she was taking. “What situation?”

Caulfield hemmed and hawed, pretending to want to dance around the subject. Bitty had seen it performed much better by little old ladies at the church potluck when Karen Branston made her infamous corn casserole. “The _you_ situation.”

“ _Excuse_ me?!”

“It’s all well and good that Jack felt charitable to help out his ex-teammate when he needed a place to stay. In fact, it actually looks good. Shows that he’s not homophobic by taking you in. It’s been great for his public reputation. But, these things have a way of coming around and biting you. The longer you live with Jack, the harder it is to conceal the nature of your relationship.”

Bitty couldn’t hold back a growl in his throat. To Hell with nosy hockey players. “Jack and I decided _together_ that I would move in back in February! This was a discussion we had. Repeatedly. A step we wanted to take in _our_ relationship. This has absolutely nothing to do with you. We discussed - in depth - how it would appear to the public that an out gay man was living with him. And we decided _then_ that we would let everyone assume what they wanted and neither confirm nor deny any gossip that came from it.”

“I don’t know why you are being so sensitive about this, Eric. Things change. And the reality of a situation is usually much different than what we would like to hope it will be. I mean, it’s all well and good that you felt you could make it work back in February, but this is June. And Jack being seen hanging around with you, with you being so … _so_ … it’s just not a good look for him. It will affect his future value and his ability to make the best decisions for his career if people think there’s something going on between you two. I mean, it might not be so bad if you weren’t quite so … obvious.”

Bitty had never been more furious in his life. What was less obvious than playing hockey on the NCAA level and winning a championship? So what if he liked to bake and was considered small for a hockey player? He wasn’t dainty by any means. He was distinctly average for an American male in height. And after 4 years playing at the college level, he was ripped, if he did say so himself. There is nothing feminine or gendered in any way about baking. There were tons of professional, stereotypically masculine chefs out there baking and cooking. Her statement was homophobic, misogynistic, and downright disgusting. And he wasn’t having it.

“You listen here. I have dealt with far more bigoted people than you Ms. Caulfield. If you think that you can make me ashamed of being who I am and being _comfortable_ with myself, you can take a jump off Tybee Island. I have a feeling even the gators won’t be interested in anything you have to offer.”

He forced himself to rein in his temper before staring at Jack and studiously ignoring Caulfied. “Jack, you are in a relationship with me, not money. I am done with the day and going home. How you want to proceed from here is your business. I would like to discuss our private life at home. However, if you feel like the past month hasn’t been healthy for you, you need to sort out why that is. You can come back to the apartment with me, or stay here and get more photo ops to pretend that you’re straight. That decision is up to you.”

He wanted Jack to follow him out to the car. But, he forced himself to open up Lyft and order a ride. He wasn’t going to assume. Jack needed to do this on his own.

“Bits -” Jack’s voice trailed off. “I know that we talked about this. But, the reality of it. It’s like a dark cloud looming over my head. And I saw what happened to you. I just - I don’t think I could go through that. Not yet. I’m not ready to deal with that.”

Bitty refused to turn around and show Jack just how hurt he was. He focused on keeping his voice mild and steady. “I’m not asking you to out yourself. I’m not asking you to proclaim to the world that you’re bi and in a relationship with a man. I’m asking that you don’t treat me like a shameful secret. I’m asking that you treat me like you have for the last two years of our relationship. I’m asking that you talk to _me_ about our relationship and not your agent. And I’m asking that you honestly think about what’s causing you to panic about the idea of headlines posting speculation about you. You’ve dealt with it your whole life. Why is this the breaking point? Is it actually our relationship? Is it actually the fact that I am who I am? Or is it the dark voice whispering in your ear prodding your worst fears and insecurities? I can’t answer those things for you, Jack. I am going home. And I’d like it if you came with me so that we can discuss this openly and honestly without prying ears.”

* * *

Bitty just wanted to crawl into a hole. He stood and looked around the empty kitchen, the kitchen Jack had designed with him in mind and every tool he could ever want. It felt hollow. He thumbed at his wallet again, thinking about those numbers he never called. It almost felt like a betrayal, a betrayal to Jack and a betrayal to everything he had decided that he wanted from life. He didn’t want to be a poster boy for LGBT issues in professional sports. He just wanted to love Jack, be in a fulfilling relationship, and be happy. Having a bakery was merely something to do for enjoyment.

Bitty gave it an hour and a half before he forced himself to get up and pack his duffel. He dawdled over clothes and his skates. Packing certain things felt permanent, and he argued with himself over what type of message he would send if he packed a week’s worth of underwear or if he should pack them all in an effort to prove a point.

He could just get a hotel room for a week. The separation would probably be good for them and allow them to gain some perspective. But, he didn’t have a job, savings, or anyone he could ask for assistance in paying for the hotel room. All the money he spent was technically Jack’s. He would eventually have his own income when he got his own job and established himself. But, he wasn’t there, yet.

Bitty sat down on the couch and realized he didn’t know where to go. It was that moment when he realized just exactly how much of his life revolved around Jack. None of his friends were just his. They were also all friends with Jack. The Falcs were Jack’s team. The Zimmermann’s treated him like a son, particularly after the blow out with his own family, but they were Jack’s parents. The only people he could think of that would be his and his alone were still attending Samwell. And as much as he loved them, they couldn’t help.

He sat with his duffel bag and phone, idly scrolling through the contacts and mentally crossing off each and every one. There wasn’t a single person that he knew that didn’t also have Jack as their common bond. Shitty, Lardo, Ransom, Holster, nevermind all of his friends with the Falcs. There wasn’t a single adult in his life that he could truly call his own friend. He was surrounded by Jack’s apartment, Jack’s friends, Jack’s life, Jack’s choices, Jack’s career. The kitchen had touches of him. There were touches of him in the throw pillows, the pictures they took when they were sure no one was looking. But gazing around, nothing was actually _his_. It wasn’t a life they were living together. This was him making a barely there impact on someone else’s life, someone else’s dream.

He hated himself just a little bit as he pulled several business cards out of his wallet. He had decided when he first got them that he wouldn’t call. He wanted to live with Jack and accepting any of these offers would have taken him to the other side of the country, somewhere he didn’t want to be. He wanted to bang his head against the wall repeatedly for being so stupid. How many times had he heard someone say to not make life choices based on another person? And here he had gone and done exactly that.

Bitty sniffled and forced himself to hold back the tears. It hurt. Giving up on Jack for himself hurt like nothing else. Swallowing and clearing his throat several times, he forced himself to dial the first number.

“Hello, this is Doug Wilson, how can I help you?”

“Mr. Wilson, this is Eric Bittle. One of your scouts gave me your card after the NCAA championships. How are you, today?”

“Doing well, son. Doing well. I got the impression from Mr. Carver that you weren’t interested in playing on the professional level.”

“Well, I had just gotten done with a very trying time and I wasn’t sure if I would be emotionally prepared to do that again on a larger stage.”

“And you’re sure, now?”

“I think it’s important.”

“Let me ask you this, do you want to play hockey because it sends a message or because you want to?”

Bitty was silent for a moment thinking it over. Playing hockey was fun. He loved it. But it was tainted by Jack. His emotions were still raw and he wasn’t sure if he could separate them from what he would want if he wasn’t facing immediate eviction. “Mr. Wilson, to be fair, that’s a complicated question. I don’t think it’s possible to separate the reasons out. I love hockey. I love the ice. But it’d be foolish to not acknowledge that there’s a part of me that wants to do this to prove that it’s possible. To define myself as a hockey player and as a gay man. That just because I’m small and come off as more stereotypical than some other people, doesn’t mean I can’t play on a professional level.”

Mr. Wilson hummed. “And what number on the list are the Sharks for you?”

“You’re the first team I called.”

“Well, I have to admit that feels nice to know that you thought of San Jose first. And I want you to know that we run a locker room that I think anyone in the LGBT community would feel accepted in. But, we are coming up to a deadline on our prospect camp and we were really fortunate in the draft.”

Bitty knew he shouldn’t feel so upset. He knew this was likely. And this was only the first team on his list. He still had three others. Three other chances. And if they didn’t pan out … well, he’d figure something out then.

“I’m going to give you some advice. Try Vegas.”

Bitty stifled a groan of despair. He didn’t want to deal with Parson and he didn’t have their number.

“They have a later prospect camp. And I think they can teach you some things that you’ll need. Everyone knows they play a bit more dirty hockey than most. Having someone willing to be put in the box for defending you is something you are going to need. And they always teach their rookies how to throw a punch and use your size to your advantage.” Doug Wilson paused, as if contemplating how to phrase his words. “Kent Parson is an excellent captain. Not just because of his success on the ice. He runs a tight ship in that locker room.”

Bitty breathed through his nose. Objectively, he knew that it would be safer having someone who was also gay as the captain of the team. He knew Parson wouldn’t let anyone treat him badly for his orientation. But it was Parson. It would be hard to let go of years of issues with him.  “I don’t have their number.”

“Well, you’re in luck then. I do.”

Bitty pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to stave off a migraine and tears at the thought that he was even contemplating working with _Kent Parson_ , Jack Zimmermann’s self-involved ex. He needed out. But, was being in the same building as someone else who had dated Jack to an atrocious end, really something he needed to be putting himself through? He scribbled down the number as Doug Wilson rattled it off. Yes, yes he was that desperate to get out from under this mess of a life he had found himself in.

“Thank you,” Bitty said, trying to convey his deepest sincerity.

“Good luck, kid. I hope you make it. This league could use someone like you.”

Bitty hung up and took a deep breath. The apartment had gotten darker as the sun sank behind several tall buildings. Jack still wasn’t home. He dawdled a few extra seconds, as if that would hurry him home. As if Jack being present while he made the decision to go to the other side of the country would somehow make Jack realize just how much he had pushed Bitty away. Another deep breath in and Bitty typed in the number to the Aces.

“Hello, this is Danika Tyler.”

“Yes, this is Eric Bittle. Doug Wilson from the Sharks gave me your number, said that we might be a good fit.”

* * *

Jack just couldn’t seem to get his thoughts to follow a straight line. It was all jumbled up in his head. He knew Bits was upset. He even knew why. The things Ms. Caulfield said were horrific. It seemed that every time she had a chance, she would escalate things just a little bit more. The moment Bitty had left, she had actually had the gall to say, “Good riddance,” as if Bitty was nothing more than a nuisance getting in her way.

He had had his own yelling match, then. He hated letting his temper run away from him, it always led to his anxiety spiking and his brain whirling with every possible reaction people could have. He gave himself a few minutes to make sure that his breathing was under control before hopping in his Land Rover and heading back to Providence.

His mind spun and spun. Lights started coming on in buildings and street lamps flickered to life. Caulfield’s warnings mixed with sensationalized headlines flickered through his thoughts. He kept thinking about worst-case scenarios: media on his doorstep, media chasing down his former teammates, trades that went nowhere, living out of a suitcase because he was only as valuable as the next draft pick he could be traded for.

And then Bitty’s hurt face as Caulfield said those awful things.

Jack parked in a random lot and got out of his car. He couldn’t trust himself to keep driving with his hands shaking as badly as they were. He was on a precipice and there didn’t seem to be any solution that would let him safely navigate his way back to safer terrain.

What had truly blindsided him had been Caulfield’s homophobic statements to Bitty. If he had known what she had thought about Bitty, he never would have listened to her concerns to begin with. He had the sinking feeling that if he didn’t perform masculinity the “right” way, she would have been micro-managing his life for years. And that thought sent him spiraling even further. He leaned against the hood of his car, braced against it for as much stability as he could find. His brain couldn’t find the exit ramp as he imagined how much harder his life would have been if he had to put his whole being into braces and constrain himself to only the most “heterosexual” behaviors. He thought of Bitty constantly fighting to be himself. People judged him for his size, his clothes, his hobbies, his figure skating. He was a bright, beautiful person, but because he didn’t behave or look like a stereotypical hockey bro, he got the worst of society’s assumptions.

Jack wasn’t stupid. He knew people looked at them and mentally assigned them gender roles. He knew it would blow people’s minds if they learned that Bitty topped more often than not. He was a bossy little thing and Jack just wanted someone he could trust and feel safe with.

That gave him his answer. He felt safe with Bitty. If there was anyone in this world that he could trust with his welfare, it was him. Caulfield and her homophobic bullshit was out. He and Bits could work on finding him new representation in the morning.

* * *

All in all, Bitty estimated that he had waited a little over five hours for Jack. There was a large part of him that wanted him to come storming through the door and to apologize. Bitty straightened his shoulders, grabbed his duffel, and walked out the door. The flight to Las Vegas would take off in five hours, he had wasted enough time pining over what he didn’t have instead of working on what he could.

He turned off his phone as soon as he got to the airport. It was petty, but he felt just a little bit empowered. The Aces had arranged for him to fly first class and he was going to enjoy the 7 hour flight with all of the amenities. He didn’t think anyone would blame him for taking full advantage of the free alcohol. If ever there was a time for drinking, he didn’t think he’d find a better one. And it wasn’t like the airline had ice cream on board for breakup depression.

The absolute last person Bitty expected to see when he got off the plane still tipsy from the drinks served by the very sympathetic flight attendant was Kent Parson. Yet, there he was in all of his snapback glory, waving a damned sign covered in stick figure drawings of hockey players. At least, Bitty assumed they were hockey players. They also could have been men beating each other with giant dicks. Neither would surprise him.

Parson put on his media grin when he saw him. “So, you ready for this?”

Bitty nodded. “Be under scrutiny as the first out gay prospect? Sure. No problem.”

Kent must have noticed his tone, because he sidled up next to him as they stood at baggage claim and gently nudged him. “Hey, it’ll be fine. The team will have your back. All you need to focus on is playing hockey and learning what the coaches put in front of you.” Kent leaned in and whispered conspiratorially in his ear. “Me and the guys are rooting for you. I’ve been trying to decide the best time for coming out. But, without a boyfriend, it just seemed unnecessary.”

Bitty’s spine straightened. He did _not_ need to compare Kent’s desire to come out with Jack’s unwillingness to even share an apartment with his out boyfriend.

Kent, however, read his body language differently. “Shit. I thought Jack would have told you. I mean, why else would you choose Vegas?”

Bitty sniffed, and studiously focused on the carousel. “Jack doesn’t know I’m here. And I did know about you. From the last time you crashed a Haus party.”

Kent winced. “That wasn’t one of my finest moments.” He paused briefly, when a lightbulb visibly went off in his head. “Fuck! You’re that kid that Jack was making heart eyes at! And the one outside Jack’s door during our argument.” Kent grimaced. “Holy shit. Why on Earth are you here? I would think this would be the last place you wanted to be.”

“Things change. Vegas and the Aces don’t even make my top 3 anymore.”

“That sounds ugly.”

Bitty nodded and finally saw his bag. “I’m here to do something for myself. I need to stop doing what other people want and just focus on what’s best for me.”

“I hope you find that here,” Kent said, voice deep with sincerity.

“Yeah. Me too.”

* * *

Bitty was at the rink two hours before practice. The coaching staff had agreed to let him have the ice at the crack of dawn with the understanding that anything he did wouldn’t affect his performance later on that day. He happily agreed. So there he was, on day four, lacing up his figures and plugging his iPod into a portable set of speakers.

To be fair, the practices were grueling. The footwork and drills were intense. But, there was just something about figure skating that really put him in a better place for perfecting technique. Sometimes, slowly working his edge transitions over a generous period of time was better for him than endless sprints and suicides.

And then, as it always seemed to happen, he started moving into spins and simple jumping passes. Nothing strenuous, but familiar and repetitive. The music from his iPod started to progress into songs that he had choreography for and he found himself simplifying the routines and going through the motions.

The playlist ended and started on the Recently Downloaded list. He hadn’t choreographed anything to these songs. But Writing’s on the Wall by Sam Smith came on and the song just spoke to him. He translated the song through his skates onto the ice. He couldn’t do some of the things he had when he had been competing, but he managed a double axel to start. He followed with a triple flip - double toe combination. The words reached into his heart. Everything he had been through had made him feel like he was suffocating. He flung himself into a flying sit spin and transitioned into a camel spin. The verse continued and he followed it up with a triple lutz. It wasn’t as clean as he wanted, but he let his emotions flow, switching edges, dancing, etching his pain into the ice. The final chorus echoed as he finished with another spin, blurring reality as he raised his arms above his head to make himself go faster.

Bitty panted as the last note rang out. Maybe he shouldn’t have gone so hard physically, but the song called for it and his heart needed it.

“Holy shit, dude! That was amazing. I have no idea how to work any of that into a play, but you are seriously fast and agile.”

Bitty’s head snapped to focus on the person yelling from the side of the rink. “What are you doing here, Parse?”

Kent smirked and put his hands in his jeans’ pockets. “Can’t a bro be interested in the prospects?”

“I don’t know what the team is filling your head with, but you aren’t a bro.”

Kent gasped and placed a hand over his heart, feigning hurt. “I’ll have you know, I can be very bro-y. The bro-iest of all bros.”

“Tell that to all 1.2 million followers of Kit Purrson and her drawer full of tiaras.”

“Now that’s just unfair. She’s a fucking princess and deserves to be worshiped as such.”

“Mhmm.” Bitty shook his head as he skated off the ice. “You keep telling yourself that.”

The assistant coaches came down from their seats. Ivan Ruud clapped Parson on the shoulder. “So, he clearly has the footwork and speed we are looking for. Think you could break down the Saskatoon defense with him on your wing?”

Bitty glanced between the coaches and Parson. He tried not to show his surprise, nor let his vague anxiety nausea get the better of him.

Parson smirked and gave Bitty a slow and deliberate once over. “I think the NHL has slept on small, fast players for long enough. I’m tired of being the exception. Let’s make it the rule.”

* * *

It had been days and Jack still hadn’t been able to get in contact with Bitty. His phone was back on, and Jack had left voicemails and texts. But he received nothing but radio silence. When he had come home, he realized just how late it was. He had gone to the bedroom, hoping to see Bitty in bed. Instead, he was met with a half empty drawer, missing clothes from the closet, two pairs of skates gone, and Señor Bun missing from his spot on the nightstand. He immediately tried to call Bitty, but the phone just went to voicemail.

He had fucked up. He had beyond fucked up.

He called Vanessa and informed her that he would not be seeing her again. She assured him that it was fine and that he was making the right decision. She confessed that the entire situation had made her uncomfortable and wished him nothing but the best in getting his boyfriend back. The harder phone call was with his, now former, agent. She had manipulated him, wielding his anxiety against him with surgical precision. He informed her in no uncertain terms that she and her firm were fired. He wasn’t some cash cow for them to exploit. Now, if only he could at least _locate_ Bits so that he could apologize the way he should have when this whole mess started.

He grew more concerned as the days passed and not only did he not receive a reply, but Bitty’s social media accounts were completely quiet. Several of his more devoted followers had left messages on his YouTube channel asking if everything was okay. That had Jack more nervous than anything else. Bitty loved interacting with his followers. He ended up calling Shitty and Lardo to see if they had heard from him, but they didn’t know that there had even been a problem to begin with. He didn’t get into it beyond explaining that he screwed up enough for Bitty to have packed a bag. Shitty and Lardo let it slide with the promise that when he resolved it, that they got the full story.

Jack finally got a break when he got a call from his Papa.

“Why didn’t you tell me Bits was going to prospect camps? I thought I kept a good finger on the pulse of the league. I knew a couple of teams were scouting him, but I didn’t realize that he had accepted any offers. You must be so proud! That must have been one helluva conversation for you two to decide for him to try out in Vegas.”

His breath caught in his throat. Bitty had never told him he had invites. His head buzzed and he started breathing heavily. He was just starting to get the full picture of how much Bitty was willing to give up so that he could be with Jack. He felt sick.

“Jack?” Bob’s voice had lost its jovial quality.

He couldn’t bear to explain to his parents what he had done and had allowed his agent to say to Bitty. His silence dragged on.

“Jack? Jack, please tell me that you knew Bitty was going to Vegas.”

“No, Papa.”

“That’s not like him. What happened.”

“Papa - Papa, I -”

Jack couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t get his tongue around the words. He switched to French, his childhood language easier to handle his confession in. “Papa, I was so stupid. He told me what was wrong, but I didn’t listen to him. I haven’t heard from him since family skate.”

Bob followed Jack’s language shift. “Okay. What happened at family skate?”

“It started earlier. My agent -” Jack snorted in disgust, “my _former_ agent - showed me the most recent headlines her firm was handling. She suggested … merde Papa, I was so _stupid_ … she suggested that I show up to a couple of events with a girl on my arm to get the media to stop the insinuations. But Caulfield didn’t stop pushing. And Bitty was _so hurt_. We were going to talk about it, but I took so long coming home. I just drove and drove, trying to figure out my own head, and I think he had been here waiting for me. And just … Papa, he even took Señor Bun.”

“But you knew about the Sharks, Kings, and the Schooners, right?”

Jack pressed his hands into his eyes. “No, Papa. I don’t think he was ever going to tell me. I think he was going to ignore the offers so that he didn’t have to leave Providence. So he didn’t have to leave me. He won’t return my calls or my texts. Papa, I - Crisse, I don’t know what I was _thinking_.”

Bob was silent for a few seconds. “Jack, you know I love you. And I want the best for you. Maybe -” he paused, clearly weighing his words. “Maybe you wait until after camp and go to him in Vegas. But, Jack, if you have any hesitation about how the media’s attention will affect your relationship with him, you need to be honest with him. If he gets signed to Vegas, he’ll have a lot of press hounding him. He’ll be the center of attention for a long time. If you were worried about just living with him, this will be so much more intense. Take the next few days and think about it.”

“I just want him home.”

“That may not be an option for a very long time if the whispers I’ve been hearing from the Pacific conference are true. They really wanted him out there. Word is, Doug Wilson himself helped out to get him in contact with the Aces. And the Aces had been intending to poach him from another team the moment they got the chance. On only the first day of camp, he was already lighting up the ice with his skating skills; never mind the show he apparently gave on day four. ”

Jack struggled to breathe. His actions may have driven away the most important person in his life, permanently.

* * *

Bitty still couldn’t believe that he was in Vegas trying out for a professional hockey team. It was the final day and he finally felt more certain about his future. He had ignored each and every one of Jack’s calls and deleted the messages without listening to them. He knew that if he opened them, he’d go running back to Providence and never look back. He needed this. He needed to know if he was good enough on his own.

And, lord, he was. Everything clicked. The final scrimmage was like a revelation. Not a single guy on the roster gave him a hard time. The chirps were fast and furious, but clearly in good fun. His size was a matter of concern, but the nutritionists were convinced that they could put some muscle on him, since he was quite done growing vertically.

Kent Parson had made it a point to take him out on the town. He never asked what drove him to flee to Las Vegas. He didn’t need to, just handed Bitty a shot of tequila and said, “Break ups are a bitch. Fuck him.”

Bitty didn’t tell Parson who it was, but it didn’t matter, he knew. There was something in getting dumped by the same person that just made you gravitate towards each other in commiseration.

“Is it wrong that I want him back?”

“I am seriously the wrong person to ask. I kept thinking that if I chased him across the country I could make him want me again. Come to find out, I was nothing but a convenient lay. Spent the better part of my teenaged and adult years pining over someone who didn’t think much more of me than a friend with benefits.”

“Heavens, don’t let me turn into _you_ , of all people.”

Kent passed him another shot. “Nah, that’s not going to happen. You actually have self-preservation instincts. I became obsessive.”

“Yeah, you really did.”

“Hey, keep shitting on me, huh? I’ll stop buying you drinks.”

“As if. You want me to stay, so you’ll keep plying me with alcohol.”

“Damn straight.”

Bitty laughed. “I don’t think that statement applies to either of us.”

“Sure as fuck doesn’t.” Kent smirked and clapped a hand on Bitty’s shoulder. “Alright, time for all good campers to go to bed so that they can wake up in the morning and find out if they are being sent back to where they came from or getting signed.”

The morning rolled around and Bitty was met by management and PR. “Come on up to the office, Bittle, we have some things we’d like to discuss.”

They offered him $650,000 for one year. One year, make it or break it. PR was already working on statements for him and reinforcing the social media training lessons that they forced all the prospects to sit through. They allowed him to keep his own handle, but before the end of the day, it was verified. They explained their goal was for him to keep developing and to eventually be first line with Parson. Having two fast players that the large D-men couldn’t catch, zipping around with the puck would be a dream come true. And they wanted him to make that dream happen for them.

Bitty glanced at his phone, wishing that he could call Jack and tell him, wishing that Jack would be proud for him. He shook himself out of it. It didn’t matter. Maybe after he did this, maybe after he took the brunt of the hate, maybe Jack and unknown others would feel safer. Maybe then, they could have a future. But, Bitty wasn’t going to sit around pining. He was going to take control over his life and build a new one from the ground up - well, from the sand up. He took the pen and signed the contract with a flourish.

“Terrific!” Danika stood and shook his hand. “Welcome to the Las Vegas Aces! And thank you for an excellent week. Parson has already put in to have you room with him while you find a place to stay. Do you need to get anything from home?”

Bitty gave them a strained smile. “I should probably get my things from Providence. I already decided that I was going to leave everything that was still in Georgia there.”

“Okay. Anything we need to know about? Past boyfriends? Family issues?”

Bitty fidgeted. “Umm, I have a past boyfriend, but I don’t want to out him. I doubt he’ll say anything, anyway. My parents made it clear that I wasn’t welcome back until I stopped being gay. So -” he trailed off, not able to look the management team in their eyes. He didn’t want to see pity from his new employers.

“Well, we’ll prepare statements for when the media decides to go to Georgia looking for perspective pieces. And I’m sure Kent will tell you this, but this organization is a family. Hurt one of us, live to regret it.”

Bitty managed a smile and nodded. “That’s what I’m hoping to find.”

As the general manager went to open the door, they could all hear shouting from the hallway. Bitty knew both of those voices. This was the last thing he wanted to deal with in his first minutes as a professional hockey player. And he definitely did not want to do this in front of his new bosses. But, it seemed like he had deeply offended some petty deity in a past life, because the door burst open from the outside.

“Bits.”

Kent Parson stood right behind Jack and was ineffectively tugging on his arm and yelling about self-involved Canadians not knowing when to leave well-enough alone.

“What are you doing here,” Bitty addressed Jack flatly.

“You didn’t return my calls.”

“I thought that was enough of a hint.”

“I left you at least a dozen messages.”

“Because you are 110% Zimmermann and don’t know when to quit. Can we take this somewhere else? I’d rather not do this in front of my employers.”

“Employers?” Jack looked around the room and realized that it was full of executives and PR.

“The ink isn’t even dry on my contract. Needless to say, I don’t need their first impression of having an out gay hockey player to be relationship drama.”

Danika moved to Bitty’s side. “Jack Zimmermann is the ex?”

Bitty nodded.

“Ex?” Jack sounded like he had been punched in the gut.

“Yes, Jack. Ex. I got the message loud and clear when you left me sitting in that apartment for over five hours. You knew I was waiting for you. You knew how I felt about the whole situation. And you still couldn’t manage to come home.”

“I had to think. I left family skate maybe 15 minutes after you. I needed to clear my head. So, I just drove around Providence trying to get my thoughts in order. I called you the minute I realized you were gone, but your phone was off.”

“It was off because I didn’t want to talk to you. I don’t think you realize what I gave up to be with you. You and _that agent_ liked to talk about your sacrifices all the time, and how much pressure you were under. But you never considered what I might have given up to be with you and how much it hurt.”

Jack protested, “I didn’t know teams were making you offers! You never told me.”

“Because hockey has been your dream your whole life! I didn’t want to take that from you. You needed hockey. You needed it to validate yourself and everything you’ve been through. And I was happy to play the supportive boyfriend. I didn’t have to come out to the NCAA, Jack. I could have just kept it a team secret. But I wanted to be there for you, to support you in your dreams. So, I told my parents and when they disowned me, it didn’t seem to matter much any more. Why not tell the NCAA? Why not get some good out of losing my family? You seemed to want me to do it, then! I remember you saying how much of an impact it would have made for you in Juniors just to know that someone in a competitive league was out, playing good hockey, and captain of a team. You said that! And so I did. And then when I moved in with you, because I had no place left on earth to go, you couldn’t handle it! So no, Jack. I didn’t tell you. I thought I was meant to play the part of happy homemaker. But, I guess I needed hockey just as much as you. Just for different reasons. I need to find myself again, Jack. Define myself as more than Jack’s boyfriend, or Jack’s old liney.”

Bitty sniffled. At some point in his rant, he had started crying. He angrily wiped the tears away. “No. I am doing this for myself. If I had listened to those voicemails they would have only contained one of two things. The confirmation that you wanted to continue pretending to be something you’re not, or begging me to come home. I couldn’t bear to hear the first, and I would have dropped everything I was working on to fly back to you if I heard the second.”

Jack reached forward, but before he could touch Bitty, Kent yanked his arm back. “Don’t you dare.”

Jack barely gave him a glance over his shoulder. “This doesn’t involve you, Kenny.”

Kent chuckled dryly. “Fuck you, Zimms. The moment he showed up in Vegas, he was a potential Ace. And now that he’s signed? He’s my business. I protect my guys. On and off the ice. I’m going to share with you what my therapist told me to do when I couldn’t let you go. Sometimes people need to develop on their own. And sometimes that means people grow apart. If you ever want to fix your relationship, you need to let go. It’s clear that we’ll probably never fix our problems. But if you give a shit about Bittle, you need to let him go. Otherwise, you’ll end up just like me.”

Jack stared at Kent like he had never seen him before. “I -”

Bitty broke in, “Jack, please. If this is going to get uglier than it already has, we need to take this somewhere more private.”

“No. I - No. I never wanted this to get ugly. I just - I thought -”

“You thought that coming here would get me to what, Jack? Did you think you would be the knight on a white stallion, rescuing your boyfriend from the NHL when they ultimately rejected me? Or were you hoping I’d see you and immediately want to quit and beg you to take me back to Providence?” Bitty kept his voice quiet and level.

Jack bit his lip. “I don’t know. I thought we could fix us.”

Bitty sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Not right now. I need time and space. Maybe when there’s less pressure from external forces we can try again. Maybe when it isn’t so dramatic for the NHL to have out players, it’ll be possible to make it work.”

“I fired my agent.”

Bitty gave Jack a wry smile. “Good. She was bad for you. She only cared about her cut and manipulated your anxiety to her benefit. You’ll be better off without her.”

“Vanessa wanted me to pass on her apologies.”

“Vanessa’s apologies. Well, tell her I accept on the condition that she doesn’t jump head first into any more of these types of _arrangements_ without first finding out if everyone is on board.”

“She really didn’t intend -”

Bitty waved a hand, silencing Jack. “I don’t care. Apology accepted. Moving on.”

“Las Vegas is a long way from Providence.”

“Yes it is. I’m hoping that I’ll be here for awhile. It’ll do me and the sport some good.”

Jack swallowed hard, but managed a small, “I think so, too.”

Bitty sniffled and gave Jack a tiny smile. “I love you, Jack. I do. But, I don’t think we’re ready to really be committed to each other. Maybe, someday in the future, you’ll get traded somewhere west of the Mississippi.”

Jack gave a wet chuckle as he tried to keep his tears from falling. “Maybe. I hope you don’t hate me forever.”

“I could never hate you, Jack. No matter what.” Bitty glanced over at Parson, whose face was blank, hiding every complicated emotion he had behind his carefully constructed mask. “You’d better watch out, though, Jack. Parse and I have every intention of turning the Falcs defense into a useless pile of Russians.”

“I’ll let Tater know. He’ll be deeply offended.”

“Good luck, Jack.”

Jack nodded. He barely restrained himself from reaching out, but instead forced himself to turn away with a quiet, “Good bye, Bits.”

**Author's Note:**

> The routine I referenced was Jason Brown's short program from the '16 - '17 season. I lessened the difficulty of the jumps and spins to make it more reasonable for Bitty to pull off. But, even what I included would be exceptional for someone who hasn't been in training for years. You can watch this amazing and heartfelt performance at the [World Team Trophy.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qPgoPrj1WJg)
> 
>  
> 
> Come reblog this work and view others from this fest [HERE](https://omgcpheartbreakfest.tumblr.com/) on the omgcpheartbreakfest tumblr page!


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